A Darker Black
by Jade Lammourgy
Summary: Captain Phasma saves a girl while raiding a village who doesn't need much saving. She grows up in the harsh environment that is the First Order. While keeping her Jedi powers hidden from most, Supreme Leader Snoke sends her on a mission to persuade the Padawans of Luke Skywalker to join the Darkside, but little does she know that it will also change her along the way. OC/Kylo Ren.
1. Chapter 1: A New Soldier

**Summary** : Captain Phasma saves a girl while raiding a village who doesn't need much saving. She grows up in the harsh environment that is the First Order. While keeping her Jedi powers hidden from most, Supreme Leader Snoke sends her on a mission to persuade the Padawans of Luke Skywalker to join the Darkside, but little does she know that it will also change her along the way. Eventual OC/Kylo.

 **Disclaimer** : Of course I do not own anything of the Star Wars in any capacity, this FanFiction is written for pure enjoyment and nothing else.

 **AN** : Hello dear Star Wars fans! The idea for this story started out as a small thought in my head, but since I have seen the new movie twice now, it has grown into a full storyline with new characters and exiting adventures. The opening scene starts 15 years before the start of _Episode VII: The Force Awakens_. The main story will start approximately 4 years before _Episode VII_ and will focus on a main OC character and Kylo Ren mostly. I will most likely also write chapters, or parts of chapters, from the point of view of other characters, including both existing and OCs. I do not intend to go very AU, but it might be that I change some things as I go along because they suit the storyline better. I hope you will enjoy reading this first chapter and that you let me know what you think of it; I would greatly appreciate a review! A big thank you to my fellow writer LeviAntonius who always helps me while writing and who also made the beautiful cover picture for this story! I hope you all enjoy!

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Chapter 1: A New Soldier

The place looked desolate. The trees that were standing along the outer edges of the village seemed dark and tall, their leaves rustling in the wind. Captain Phasma did not see any movement between the houses and only heard her own breathing inside her chromium helmet. She knew that they were waiting for her orders. If she looked carefully she would be able to make out the shapes and figures of her squadron along the tree lines. Yet she did nothing. Her mission was simple: go to expansion region, find the argiworld Vernet and gather as much food as you can. She had already raided four villages across the planet, but had room in her ships for a little more. Captain Phasma had always been a person to take full advantage of her options, and thus she would not let one grain escape her grasp.

Nevertheless, she waited. Her soldiers would not become impatient; they would wait for her signal until sunrise if she chose to. They would not dare to say a word. She made sure of that when she trained them for the First Order. But the question she asked herself was why she made them wait. All was quiet, the villagers and farmers were sleeping, she could attack them knowing that most of them would get killed in their sleep. A merciful death that was, most of them did not even deserve it. Still it was strange. Vernet was an argiworld, consisting of farmlands and small villages who traded their food with other planets. But Captain Phasma could see that the sun was starting to rise and yet no farmer had awoken to work on his land, not one light was shining in a window of one of the houses. It was dead quiet.

She sniffed the air, but through her helmet the scent became distorted. It was a mixture of freshly cut grass and metal. She had to make a decision, she knew that, the capital city Maz-Verlin could get word of her raids any moment and might sent over their small army, but an army nonetheless.

Captain Phasma raised her fist in the air, held it for a few seconds, but then opened her hand and moved her arm downward. The stormtroopers came into movement. Their footsteps and commandos soon overwhelmed the sound of the wind and she herself started to move towards the village. She fingered the trigger of her blaster rifle and in a few big strides stood beside one of the houses. Everything was still dark. Her instincts told her that something did not add up, but she stayed calm. She would never lose her calm.

She moved her hand in a signal to the troops to her right. In one kick the front stormtrooper opened the door, but almost instantly was hit back by a frying pan hitting him in the face. Immediately another stormtrooper reacted by shooting and Captain Phasma saw the body of an elderly woman drop over the porch of the house. The villagers knew they were there.

"Attention all squadrons, villagers are aware of our position. Kill at first sight," she said in her impassive voice knowing that they could all hear her in their helmets.

The stormtrooper in front of her stepped over the dead body of the woman and soon the room of the house was filled with red flashlights of his blaster rifle. More doors were being kicked in and Captain Phasma could hear the screaming of villagers. She saw some being dragged out by their clothing or hair onto the wet grass and being shot in the chest. She did not smile, since it was not in her nature to do so, but knew that this squadron was trained well.

The screaming intensified, she heard children cry and saw a man trying to run for the treeline with a baby on his shoulder. Phasma aimed her blaster rifle and shot him in the back. The man fell, face down in the grass while the baby continued to cry. She would not shoot the baby, but instead take it with her to the First Order so it could be trained to become a stormtrooper. She would get it later.

"Captain, we have found the grain." Phasma turned around, a stormtrooper stood behind her, his rifle by his side still smoking from all the shooting he had apparently done.

"Good. Load as much as you can unto the ships, let me know when you are done." He nodded, made a small bow and was off.

When he left, a small house came into Phasma's view. She had not seen it before since trees surrounded it and it stood apart from the village. The squadron had not yet reached it and her instinct as a captain told her to inspect it. In a mere minute she reached the small, wooden home. The windows were dark, just like the other houses were, but she heard no movement, no screams. Nothing. It was as if they had heard nothing of the commotion or there was simply no one home.

Phasma kicked the door in with little effort. The room inside was a mess and she could smell the stench of alcohol and cigars. She was not taken back by it and strode into the middle of the room. Her feet kicked glass bottles out of the way and her hand reached up to turn on her helmet's flashlight, but the sound of feet made her turn around.

She reacted first by pointing her rifle at the person behind her and almost immediately pulled the trigger, but she stopped herself. She clicked her flashlight on and it illuminated the face of a little girl. She could be no older than eight years. Her face was dirty, black smears covered her cheeks and her dark, almost black eyes reflected the light of the flashlight. Her light brown hair was cut short, it fell around her face in strays of curls and looked unkempt. The girl looked downright neglected. But her face did not betray any emotion; she did not even look at the rifle that was pointed straight at her. She looked at Phasma.

Phasma opened her mouth to say something, but a scream interrupted her. Before she could turn around she felt a glass bottle hit her helmet and she almost lost her balance. Her flashlight went out with a bang and fell to the ground, scattering into small pieces. The person behind her screamed again and Phasma swirled back trying to hit the person with her rifle in the dark. She could barely see anything and her head was dizzy from the blow. She felt the rifle connecting with a shoulder and she heard a loud yelp before the person fell to the ground. Phasma directly grabbed her rifle by its handle and pulled the trigger, hoping she was firing it at the person. Her breathing was loud and she could almost hear it over the blasts of the weapon. The red flashes lit up the room and she could see that she was shooting a woman in her abdomen. She did not stop until she was assuredly dead. The room went dark again and Phasma could smell the burning skin of the body at her feet.

Displeased, she realised that the girl must have run away and escaped. She turned her back to the body, expecting to see an empty doorway, but to her surprise the girl had only moved a few steps backwards to protect herself from the swing of Phasma's rifle. Phasma opened her mouth, ready to ask her what she was doing when the girl interrupted her.

"You killed my mother," she said, her voice lacking any kind of emotion.

Phasma waited, not sure of what the child would do. Her finger pressed the trigger ever so slightly, making sure that she could fire at any moment. But the girl spoke again.

"Thank you." Phasma watched her face. It showed no pain, nor anger or sadness. It was blank, devoid of any signs that could alarm Phasma. She was stoic, like herself.

The girl turned her head away from her dead mother's body and looked at Phasma. The girl could not see, but Phasma raised an eyebrow and looked the child up and down again. Her clothes were torn, just as dirty as her face was. Her left arm showed small round burns as if multiple cigars had been pressed on her skin.

"What is you name, child?" Phasma asked, her voice calm and monotone.

"Ylva," the girl answered, without taking her dark eyes off of Phasma. "Can I come with you now?"

Phasma did not react, not to the girl, but also not to herself. The girl was in truth too old to be taken back to the First Order to be trained as a stormtrooper. But Phasma had never met a child who was already detached from her emotions as she trained her soldiers to be. Because of this, she felt a strange sort of respect for the girl, as if she was almost glad to have found her.

"Do you know who I am?" Phasma asked, not really expecting a serious answer, but asking her nonetheless.

"You are with the white soldiers outside, who killed all the people," Ylva answered, her voice quite loud for a child.

"Then why do you want to come with me?"

"Because, there is nobody left."

The girl intrigued Phasma. The First Order could not object to her bringing along an older child if they knew what she was like. The girl threw another glance at her mother's body, but still there was no reaction to be seen on her face.

"Can we go now?" the girl asked again, her voice monotone like that of the Captain herself. Phasma nodded, if there were consequences she would deal with them later.

Suddenly Phasma felt something grab her hand. She looked down and saw that the girl had gripped her hand and started to walk towards the door. Phasma let her for some reason.

The door creaked as Ylva pushed it open, it hung on its last hinge. The darkness of the room disappeared and a warm light shined onto Phasma's helmet. The sun had risen above the tree line, but that was not the source of the bright glow. The squadron had lit the houses and the bodies that were lying in the grass on fire. Their flamethrowers were burning down the village as they were retrieving back to their ships.

Phasma looked down on Ylva, trying to see if the child displayed any emotion at the sight of her village burning down. But Ylva only stared back at her and gave a small smile.

"I like your hat, it's shiny."

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 **AN 2.0:** I hope you liked the first chapter! Please leave your thoughts and comments in a review. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please do alert me since English is not my native language and I would be happy to change any mistakes that I might have made.


	2. Chapter 2: The Grain

**AN:** Thank you all so much for the favourites, follows and of course the reviews! I greatly appreciate them and I can finally look at them again as the site seems to have fixed the bug. But I will not keep you long for here is the new chapter, enjoy!

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Chapter 2: The Grain

 ** _Ylva - 19 years_**

I could hear their screams coming from above. Mingled with the cheers of the spectators, it created a gruesome sound that had settled in my heart long ago to echo there forever. I walked on, ignoring it as I had done my whole life. My boots made the dust on the floor sweep up and I could see it whirl in the streaks of light that came through little cracks in the walls. The screaming continued. I almost did not hear it anymore after years of being surrounded by it. It had become a part of me and I knew I could not live without it. Not that I minded.

I turned the corner and the hallway made way for a larger, open area. The smell of piss and fear was mingled with that of bleach. The red and brown stains on the walls reminding those who passed by of the ones who had died, even before entering the Grain. They had been lucky. I strode by it, not paying attention since I knew exactly which stain belonged to what victim. It did not matter; only the living mattered.

Soon enough I came to a dead end. A metal door blocked my way. I came through it everyday, not fearing it anymore as I used to do. But now, as I was standing still, I noticed that the screaming had stopped and laughter, cheers and applause remained. I waited patiently as I had done many times before. It would not take him more than five minutes to round of his performance.

As I had predicted the door opened after a few minutes and bathed the room and myself in harsh, unnatural white light. I could see a figure walking towards me, his hands outstretched; waving to people I could not see. He had become cocky.

The minute the door closed behind him I was able to see his face. His blond, almost white hair, had streaks of blood in it, making me wonder what he had done this time. His light blue eyes had a frenzied look in them, but as soon as they focused on me they calmed a bit. I was remembered once more of his length by looking at him as he was quite small for a man his age and it always made a small, satisfying smile appear on my face.

"Did you hear them just now? They love me." His voice sounded delighted and he held one hand against his rather large left ear as if to point the cheering of the crowd out to me.

"Yes, I hear it. It's not hard to miss you know," I pointed out, rolling my eyes, wanting to change the subject from stroking his ego to something more serious.

"Exactly, they are going mad for me." He grinned, making a foolish sound come out of his mouth. The contrast between his big smile and the blood on his face would be horrific to most, but I had gotten used to it.

"I would tone your attitude down a bit, Oph. You might fall into bad graces."

Oph's smile shrunk, but did not disappear; he was in too good a mood to let me ruin it for him by mentioning his always-present threat.

"It doesn't matter how much you would want me to go back to my slave quarter, Ylva, it is not happening and you know it. Hux likes me too much."

I scoffed as we started walking back in the direction I came from earlier. He was right of course, but I still liked pointing out to him that he was formerly know as SB-0032 and that that name could as easily be given back to him as he had gotten his new name from Hux.

Commander Hux. The name only made me want to grimace, but emotions were something I liked to keep to myself. It was true that Oph was greatly favoured by him. Not only because of the way Oph could suck up to him, but also because of the way Oph _literally_ sucked him. Commander Hux had never held a slave as a bed partner as long as he had Oph, so he was most likely to stay there even longer. Not that Oph minded. He did not have to scrub floors anymore or die for his misbehaviours in the Grain. He was the predator now instead of the prey. The only thing he had to do was please Hux, or let Hux do to him whatever the Commander wanted to do. It was not a bad trade; sex for a more free life. Besides, if something did not please Oph he would just let his anger out in the fighting pit, as it seemed he did today.

"What did you kill this time?" I asked, mildly curious due to the many blood spatters on his face and in his hair.

"A slave girl who had stolen a blaster from a stormtrooper. She had a bit of a nasty ending; they wanted me to make it as painful as I could. So, of course, I did. I wouldn't want to let down my fans." He started to grin again, and the glimmer of a maniac appeared in his eyes once more. I smiled mildly.

"You must be hungry then," I remarked as we turned another corner, walking into a rectangular room filled with weapons and armour, befitting for a First Order soldier. Two slaves stood with their heads bowed next to the nearest wall. In their hands they held plates with food and wine.

"You know me so well, Ylva," Oph declared and grabbed a cup, not even paying attention to the girl who almost flinched when he snatched it from her, "Who are you fighting today?"

"I asked them to keep it a surprise," I answered while walking to the back wall and grabbing the black suit that was hanging there. It reeked of sweat and a mixture of blood and other odours that could only come out of a human body. It had not been washed in three years, just as I wanted.

"You don't like surprises Ylva, why ask for them?" Oph questioned, pulling up his nose and almost gagging as I came walking back to him with my suit in hand. "And could you _please_ , for the Supreme Leader's sake, wash that hideous thing?"

"To see if they got something better in store than crying slaves," I replied as I started to undress, "and the whole point to this suit is to not wash it, makes them even more scared."

"Makes them beg for mercy you mean. You smell worse than the garbage compacter in section C13, and that says something."

Oph took no regard when I pulled the last piece of clothing over my head. I was used to the smell of my fighting suit, just like I was used to all the other appalling things that happened in the Grain. The suit worked as a reminder of all the people I had already killed in it. The fabric of it was rough and showed signs of wearing down, but I kept wearing it, mending any holes in it after each fight. It was the only thing that I had ever gotten from someone as a present and I planned on keeping it with me as long as I could.

A red light on the wall suddenly started to blink and Oph chucked down his wine in one gulp.

"I hope for the sake of your victim that he is wearing a mask, otherwise he will be dead long before you will stab him," he mocked and flashed me a crooked grin. I returned it with a feigned smile.

"I hope I win as well."

The red light began to flicker faster. I pulled my boots back on and took my double bladed spear down from the weapon wall. It reflected the red light at the ends and I whirled it around for a bit until I heard footsteps coming down from the hall. Two guards entered the room and gestured for me to come with them.

I did not turn around to look at Oph since I knew he would never wish me good luck. I did not mind, considering we were not friends. We were merely two hunters, killing the same prey.

One guard let the way back again to where I had waited for Oph, the other one closed in behind me. Their footsteps sounded harsh on the metal floor and I could sense that they were irritated to be stuck with the job of escorting me to the tunnel. If only I could make them change their minds, then I would happily walk into the Grain on my own.

 _But you can't, you are too weak_.

I shook my head. Annoyance bubbled up inside of me due to the voice in my head telling me what I could not do. I was a fighter, a killer, someone people feared when they had to face me. Nevertheless I would never be the strongest. Not many people knew of my _other_ abilities and I liked to keep it that way. I did not want to raise expectations when I would not be able to fulfil them. I might be a child of the Force, but it was not strong with me.

I was no Lord or Master.

The guard in front of me stopped, his face blank of expression. Most Force sensitive people could get inside someone's head, read their thoughts, know their darkest dreams. Not me. The farthest I got was to knowing how someone felt. I could not let things float in the air. I could not make people do what I wanted them to do. I could only feel the Force, not use it.

But, I could fight.

The guard stretched out his hand not even saying what he wanted anymore. I placed my arm in his palm as I had done so many times before and he pulled out a scanner from behind him. In a swift move he brought it up and down my arm, over my burned skin until it reached my fingers. It made a beeping noise and an electronic voice said: "Approved."

"May the strength of the Supreme Leader guide you," the guard grunted, not sounding very sincere. I said nothing back, did not even acknowledge the saying that all First Order soldiers used. I pulled my sleeve back down and turned towards the metal door. It opened.

It was a feeling I experienced every time, but it was the one thing I never got used to. It was as if I drowned in the cheering of the crowd. There were hundreds of people. They had come to see blood and it was my job to deliver. The bright light that came from the ceiling blinded me for a few seconds, but soon enough I saw the arena before me. The Grain it was called due to its rather strange shape. Metal walls surrounded the whole place, making sure that the spectators would be safe, and sometimes the other way around. The crowd had gathered on the iron benches that were placed on the sides. I could see all kinds of people. Slaves were seated the furthest away from the actual arena, then came the normal stormtroopers, followed by commanding stormtroopers and closest to the fighting pit were the actual important people in the First Order.

Their cheering intensified as I walked towards the centre of the Grain. I kept my eyes on the doors opposite of the one I came out of. As Oph had said I hated surprises, but it had been a long time since I had been in a decent fight. The last couple of months it had only been slaves who had committed such an unforgivable crime that they were sentenced to die. But even death was not wasted here in the First Order. They made sure they got the most out of everything, so they made a spectacle of it. It was the only entertainment available. You could bet on anything, from the amount of time it would take the executioner – me in this case – to kill the offender, to how he or she would beg for their lives. There had even once been a stormtrooper who had placed a bet on how many times a slave would ask for forgiveness and had gotten it right. Everything was allowed.

I stopped when I reached the middle line. My fingers drummed against the handle of my spear. Being impatient never worked in my favour but it was an oddity that I had to live with. Suddenly the cheering of the crowd stopped completely and my head jerked up as soon as I heard how everybody got down on one knee. That could only mean one thing and I immediately dropped down on both my knees, lowered my weapon and bowed my head in fear of losing it if I did not.

A long silence followed until a soft buzzing sound filled the arena and I could hear him scraping his voice.

"You may rise," he mumbled, but his voice was intensified by the hologram making it echo throughout the Grain.

No one rose. He was talking to me. I could literally feel the tension in the Force and I slowly got up from my position, keeping my eyes focused on the ground. I kept my arms stiff at my side because I knew what was coming and I learned from past experience that I was never ready for it. I had to brace myself.

" _They told me you did not want to know who your opponent would be, why is that?_ " His voice was like that of a snake. It slithered in my head and whispered words into the deepest core of my body. I felt the blood drain from my head and turn my body cold. The strength that I had felt just mere seconds ago seemed to slip through my fingers and I could not grasp at it. Courage failed me.

"I wanted a challenge, Supreme Leader _,_ " I said out loud, in view of the fact that I was too weak with the Force to communicate with him through my thoughts.

" _A challenge, hmmm? Is the First Order not challenging enough for you?_ "

"It is, Supreme Leader, but-"

" _I don't care for your excuses. I have already arranged for you to fight someone who will hopefully meet your requirements and if not, then I am afraid we will not see each other again._ "

I felt him pulling back, but his words stayed in my head. _Not see each other again_ – did he mean that he would never come again to watch me execute his orders, or did he mean something I feared much more: death.

I did not have time to think about it. The metal door across from me opened with a scraping sound and everybody around the Grain rose from their position. The cheering from the spectators rose up like a phoenix from his ashes. I had almost forgotten that they had been here as well. My eyes fixed on the door, now a black tunnel where I could not see anything or anyone move. I grabbed my weapon.

It was silent in my head. I had cast out the words of Supreme Leader Snoke; I could deal with them later. My only focus was on the door in front of me now. I calmed my breathing and spread my feet a bit, making sure I would hold my ground. To my left I could see the hologram of Snoke, just as big as it was in his normal chamber, towering over everybody.

Suddenly a banging noise erupted from the tunnel. It sounded as if someone was slamming his weapon into the iron walls on purpose. The beating of my heart matched the low, but intimidating sound of it. It felt as if the whole arena trembled. A figure became visible. I could see that the banging came from the three-headed chain mace in his hand. His dark cloak hid his face from the light, making his appearance even more alien. I could see that his other hand was grasping a long dagger, pointing it directly towards me.

I closed my eyes. I would not let fear settle into my heart, I was stronger than that. I was a killer, a warrior, a _fighter_. I would survive this and would kill the unknown stranger in the process of it. If this was Snoke's way of punishing me for not just executing my orders without question then he would not succeed. I would survive.

When I opened my eyes the person had stepped into the full light, closing the distance between us. An iron shoulder plate covered his right shoulder, making me question if it was just an attribution to his armour or if he had been fatally wounded there before. If it was the latter then that meant I could easily take him out with a swift, but hard blow there. I tried to concentrate on his feelings, but I sensed nothing. It was as if he had blocked them off. I searched for his eyes, but the only thing I could see was a dark hooded figure.

"Soldiers of the First Order, welcome to the seventh execution round of today!" A voice, boomed by electronics, echoed through the Grain making the spectators yell even harder.

"You have all placed your bets, now see who will win. Execution is possible on both sides!"

I swallowed as I waited for the buzzer to sound. _Execution on both sides_ – normally it was only one side, and that was not mine. I had always been a faithful servant; from the day Phasma brought me here till now. Why did Snoke want me dead?

I looked at the officers' benches and searched for the familiar chrome suit. It didn't take me long to find her. Phasma was staring directly back at me, but I could not see her eyes for her helmet obscured them. I didn't know if my face showed emotion, but I knew that she wanted me to shut my feelings out and concentrate on the job. She would want me to win. That was how she had trained me.

The buzzer sounded. My opponent ran forward, his chained mace outstretched and swinging in a deadly manner by his side. I duck down, dodging his weapon as it came flying towards me. My spear connected with his booth, cutting it open in the process, but not slowing him down. I could hear our already ragged breaths trying to keep up with our movements. I rolled out of the way, avoiding his mace once again as it struck the ground where I had crouched down just a second ago. My legs worked fast. I crawled to my feet, trying my best to stab him with my spear as he gathered his strength to swing his weapon at me.

He blocked me with his arm plate, pushing my spear to the side and lashing out at me. I sidestepped it once more, but his dagger connected with my hand. I grunted, trying to ignore the pain as he cut my skin open. We were close now and I could look into the hood of the cloaked warrior.

Blue, almost white eyes starred back at me. The soft features of the face and full lips made me realise I was fighting a woman. I saw she was confused for a second and I took advantage of it by pushing her arm out of the way and slamming my fist against her temple. She stumbled, her hood falling from her face exposing her red hair, which was bundled up in a tight knot. I could hear the audience shouting.

Her eyes seemed dazed, but she grabbed her mace again and tried to focus on me. I span around, lashing the front blade of my spear at her in the progress. She tried to step back, but due to my earlier blow she was too slow. I felt my spear connect with her cheek and I cut her open from ear to her chin. Blood gushed out and I heard her scream. The people on the benches went crazy, but I did not wait. I charged forward, spear in hand and pointing it towards her protected shoulder. She deflected me, trying again to recede back, but I did not stop. I could not stop. All I wanted to do was finish this fight and with that also her.

She cried out when my blade pierced her leather breastplate near her shoulder. I twisted my weapon, making her fall to her knees in pain. She flung her chain mace at me in a last attempt to stop me from killing her. The iron-spiked balls connect with my spear in the middle and with a hard cracking sound, broke the weapon in two. I lost my balance, falling sideways and seeing how she yanked the other half of the spear out of her shoulder. Her blood dripped on the floor, making red stains that would stay there forever. I tried to get up, but she dived forward driving her dagger into my left calf.

I screamed, seeing stars appear before my eyes, unable to get up and fight back. I could hear her stumble, struggling to keep her balance as she heaved her chained mace into the air for the last time.

 _Is this it?_ I thought as the urge to close my eyes before the last blow overpowered me. I heard the iron chains whiz in the air; everything went dead silent. I didn't listen to the crowd going crazy. I only heard my heart beating, but non-the less a beating that would not stop until I let it.

My eyes flung open. Everything seemed to slow down. I heard the woman laugh. I rolled over, ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg and saw her fling her mace at my. I shrunk away, grabbing the dagger with my hands and pulling it out of my leg as I felt the mace plunging into the floor. I did not think; I only acted.

I grabbed her leg with my free hand and pulled myself upwards. The dagger in my hand was coloured bright red with my blood and it dripped off it as I jabbed it into her liver. I saw her face stiffen. Her eyes glazed over as if a curtain was pulled down. A gargling noise escaped her mouth and I twisted the blade inside of her.

Almost in slow motion she fell sideways, her mace dropping to the ground.

I breathed. The Grain was completely silent. No one was screaming anymore as the blood dripped out of the woman's wounds, making puddles around her dead body. I tried to stand up, almost losing my balance as a shooting pain went through my leg. I tried to ignore it as I looked up, right into the face of Supreme Leader Snoke.

An applause erupted from the crowd and people stood up to yell my name. I could not smile. I felt as if the danger was still not over. I limped back to the middle of the arena almost not hearing the commentator declare me victor.

When I reached the black dot that marked the spot I had to stand on, I bowed. It almost felt sarcastic, as if I wanted to show Snoke that I could not be defeated in the Grain. As if I felt better than him. I dared to look up and saw him starring back at me. His eyes were ablaze and I feared his voice in my head, but the pain did not come. The only thing that happened was his hologram disappearing. He was gone.

I blinked a few times. The crowd kept on cheering, but I would not be some low victor who would bask in the glory of his triumph and start waving. I would not be Oph. My head was empty as I turned around to face the metal door I had come from. Would a squadron of stormtroopers be waiting for me there and shoot me as soon as the door would close behind me? Would I die there even if I won here?

There was only one way to find out. I limped towards the door. It opened slowly as I approached it, but I could not see inside. I wanted to close my eyes again and just be done with it.

The coolness of the darkness overwhelmed me as I stepped inside. I expected the sound of guns being aimed at my head, but it never came. I only heard someone breathe. I faced the direction where the breathing came from as the metal door closed. Phasma was standing a few feet away from me; she had taken her helmet of. A rarity.

"The Supreme Leader wants to talk to you." Her aged voice sounded emotionless as it had always done, but I could see in her face that she worried about me. It was a subtle look, only detectable by me, "Let's not keep him waiting," She mumbled.

She turned around, her chromic armour showing me my distorted reflection. Would this be the last time I would see myself? Dirty, bleeding and sweating? I limped behind her, trying my best to ignore the pain in my body. Trying my best not to be afraid.

But how could I not be?

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 **AN:** A longer chapter this time than the last one! I had great fun writing this all down, as I very much liked the idea of the First Order entertaining their soldiers by way of gladiator-like combat. It would not only make the execution process a lot easier (and more fun for them), but it would also keep reminding their soldiers of the fate they would have to face if they would ever step out of line. My great friend LeviAntonius came up with this idea and I am forever thankful for it.  
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter just as much as I liked writing it! Please do leave a review, even if it is just one sentence, because it really motivates me to see that so many people like this story! I was so surprised by the amount of followers and favourites I got since my other FanFictions (which are written in Dutch) have far less feedback. So please keep them coming and I promise you that I will update the next chapter soon! I am curious as to what you think of Oph and his relation with Hux, who you think the woman might have been, and what you think of Ylva's weak Force powers but her strong combat skills! I also like to hear your opinion on how you think this story will develop. Because it is a story with eventual KyloxOc, I am curious to read what your expectations are with this. Kylo Ren is not yet introduced in the story, because I find it important to first lay down a character basis for Ylva, before throwing her into the story with Kylo.  
Have a lovely day (or night) and I look forward to your reactions!

P.s. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, do let me know since I want to improve my English.


	3. Chapter 3: A Life Long Practice

**An:** First of all I would like to thank all these wonderful people for reviewing: **Trying to Put Pen to Paper, chewiewookie, pleiiades** and **bbjay** it really means a lot to me that you take the time to write them! Now about this new chapter, I hope you will enjoy it. It starts of with a small background story on Ylva and will then continue where the main story line left off last time. Let me know what you think in a review and I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 3: A Life Long Practice

The girl's hand felt cold. She tried to keep it warm under her clothes, but the flimsy farmer's attire was not of any use on this ice planet. She did not know where she was. The long, dark hallways all seemed to look alike and at one point she thought they were going in circles just to scare her. Nevertheless, she was not afraid, not that she would let them know if she was. All her life she had kept her feelings hidden. They had never been allowed and it looked like the same rules applied here. So she kept her face clean, almost not daring to breathe either.

The man in the white suit in front of her turned at another corner. He looked exactly like all the other men she had seen; he looked exactly like the soldiers who had killed everyone at her village. He was a stormtrooper, she knew. There was another one behind her, his footsteps dangerously close to hers. She knew what death was and she felt quite close to it right now. Had it been a mistake to ask the woman in the shiny armour if she could come along? Was she not better off dead?

No, she was not. She knew it. She knew that she was supposed to survive, she had done so all her life. She had survived her father beating her senseless at the age of six and had survived her mother putting cigars out on her arm all her life. She had survived them, and she lived while they were dead. This would not be very different. The stormtroopers did not scare her and they never would. As long as she fought back she would always win. She would always live.

The girl hadn't noticed the stormtrooper in front of her stopping. With a soft thud she bumped into him, feeling the coolness of the armour on her dirty skin. She felt her cheeks go red with something she could not quite place. Was it embarrassment or something more? Nevertheless, she noticed herself shrink a little when the stormtrooper turned around slowly. She could not see his face and thus not read his expression. Would he hit her like her father had done? Or just shoot her like the other people in her small town?

"I- I'm s-sorry, sir," she mumbled, tripping over her words.

"Stand back, girl," he sneered, sounding quite intimidating to the ears of the girl.

She nodded and immediately took a few steps back, trying not to let her eyes bulge out of their sockets while struggling to look everywhere except at his mask. She could hear him grunt something, but she didn't know the word he said. They had stopped in front of a door and the stormtrooper who she had bumped into now faced the door again and pressed some things on a small panel to the left. The door soon opened and revealed an all white chamber with a single, small iron chair in the middle. The girl looked confused for a moment, but the stormtrooper behind her pushed her forward and she stumbled into the room.

She could see other people by the back wall. They did not have the same uniform as the soldiers had, but were dressed in black robes, their faces showing. They were smiling at her and she could feel a shiver run up her spine, yet she wouldn't show them. She would not let them know she was afraid.

"Thank you FT-2334, that will be all," one of the men announced and the stormtrooper whom she had bumped into turned around and left the room with his partner following behind him.

A silence followed and she could feel the eyes of the men almost burning in her skin. The white room made her feel even dirtier than before. Her skin had to be ash brown from all the dust and her hair was full of tangles as she tucked on it ever so slightly.

"Why don't you take a seat?"

The man furthest to the right had spoken. His greasy black hair was combed back and his pale skin looked oily in the harsh lights of the room. He smiled, but it did not comfort the girl, it made her feel sick.

She did not reply and she did not move. One reason was that did she did not like the man and did not want to follow his orders. The other reason was that the chair looked very uncomfortable and she had no intention on turning her back to the only people in the room. She was smarter than that, even for an eight year old.

"What is your name, girl?" Another man spoke. This was the one who had ordered the stormtrooper away and who looked like he was in charge. His voice was dark like his complexion, making him stand out just like her in the all white room.

"Ylva," the girl mumbled, almost involuntarily as if he compelled her to say it.

"That is a pretty name, do you know what it means?"

Ylva shook her head. She felt unable to take her eyes off of the man who had started to walk towards her. Once he stood before her, he knelt down bringing his face below hers so that she had to look down on him. It made her feel empowered.

"It means she-wolf," he whispered. His golden eyes almost lit up while he spook the words and Ylva felt her mouth open, wanting to say something to the strange man. "It is a very powerful name, you should carry it with pride."

She hadn't noticed that the other people in the room had moved towards them. All of a sudden she felt a pair of hands grab her shoulders and it felt as if a spell had been broken. She yelled and tried to get the hands off of her, but they were strong and grabbed her even tighter.

"You are hurting me!" she screamed, but the person behind her did not listen. They dragged her to the chair while the man with the golden eyes watched. Had he bewitched her into trusting him? Did he pull some kind of magic trick on her to make her feel safe?

As soon as she saw his eyes again she felt a calmness flood over her. It felt as if a heavy blanket was laid down upon her and she could feel herself get drowsy. Metal cuffs were clicked over her wrists and ankles; she was not able to move anymore.

"Get the equipment, don't forget the scanner."

Ylva could hear the voice of the man with the greasy hair next to her ear, but was unable to turn her head to look at him. She tried to fight the drowsiness; to get her body out of the feeling of calmness as her head was going on full speed. What was happening to her? What were they going to do?

"No need to worry Ylva, it will all be alright. It is just a small procedure that all children need to go through." The man with the golden eyes appeared before her again. He looked at her and she could not look away from his eyes. Something felt very dangerous, but also very similar about them and it scared her to the point that she could feel tears well up in her eyes.

Suddenly the man grabbed her hand, the hand that had been cold since the woman in the shiny armour had let go of it and had sent her away. The hand that suddenly felt as if it was going to burn under the man's skin. He kept starring at her and she wanted to scream to him to let her go, but she felt powerless. Her whole body seemed to be burning up and the tears she had kept hidden for so long streamed down her dirty cheeks. It was as if he was in her head. A thousand voices exploded and she wanted to yell at them, to leave her alone, but she could not. The only thing she could do was look at the golden eyes of the man. The golden eyes of the wizard.

And just as quickly as the burning feeling had come, it was gone. Her hand still felt warm and Ylva noticed that she could move her head again. She was breathing heavy, feeling the room spin around her and only hearing a few of the words that were being spoken.

"…talk to the Supreme Leader."

"… he will… she has the power."

"Can you feel it?"

"…she has to be taken there…"

What were the men talking about? She could see their heads appearing and disappearing out of her sight, but whenever their mouths moved she did not hear any words. Ylva felt as if she was going to be sick. The room was too bright and she had felt something change inside of her when the wizard man had touched her. She could suddenly feel things: excitement, fear, pride. Those emotions did not belong to her, but then to whom did they when she could so clearly feel them as if they were her own?

A hand suddenly touched her again and the room stopped spinning. It was the wizard and she immediately felt her heart race and her breathing intensify. She wanted to tell him things, to ask him about what he had done to her, but her throat was as dry as a piece of paper.

" _We need to insert a tracker chip into your arm, don't worry, it won't hurt_."

She could see that he kept his mouth shut, but she could hear the words clearly in her mind. Was she going crazy?

A stinging pain suddenly erupted in Ylva's already scared arm, making her cringe. The man kept looking at her while she could feel the others place something inside her lower arm. She closed her eyes, trying to push all her feelings away from her and not wanting to see what they were doing to her.

It seemed like an hour before the pain stopped. The metal cuffs were taken off and she slowly dared to open her eyes again. The man was still standing next to her, looking at her with a curious smile on his face. Ylva noticed she could move again and saw that her left arm had been bandaged. She assured herself that she could not feel the tracking chip inside her arm or else she was afraid she would faint.

"If you are ready to stand then follow me," the man spoke and Ylva saw another door being opened. Only then she became aware of the noise that filled the room. She could hear voices. Not just two or three, but fifty or so, all softly buzzing away.

Ylva stood up. Her knees were shaking under the sudden weight, but she firmly told herself to stay strong and look confident. She would survive, she had promised herself that. Because if she didn't then no one would care and that scared her more than the whole ordeal that had happened merely an hour ago.

The man turned towards the door and walked slowly in front of her, making sure she could keep up. She entered a new hallway, not as light as the room, but also not as dark as the ones she had walked through with the two soldiers. The voices became louder and after a few seconds she saw where they came from.

A big open space was filled with at least a hundred children, all differing in age and looks. Some were younger than her and others looked to be as old as fifteen. There were more boys than girls, but no one seemed to mind that very much. They were sitting around iron picnic-like tables, eating what seemed to be soup and some bread. They didn't look happy, but they also didn't look sad or angry. In fact, Ylva could not detect any emotions whatsoever. They looked as stoic as she always wanted to look.

"Meet your new family. You will eat, sleep, train and live with these other children for the rest of your training days after which you will fight side by side with them for the First Order."

The man beside Ylva spoke, his voice easily overpowering the hundreds of voices of the children. She looked at him guessingly.

"I don't understand."

"Don't worry, you soon will. Come with me now, you will not join them just yet."

The man started walking again. Ylva felt compelled to stay with the other children, but an unknown power urged her to follow the man, so she did. His boots made a harsh noise and she could feel the eyes of the other children burning in her back. As if she became electrified she felt an emotion hit her. _Jealousy_. Where had that come from? She did not feel jealous and it scared her to think of any sources where it could have come from. Why could she feel it?

After walking a few minutes in silence and turning numerous corners and even entering an elevator, the man stopped in front of a large metal door.

"Don't speak unless you are being spoken to. Kneel when I kneel and keep your head down. Do you understand?"

Ylva nodded. She tried to rid her head from everything again just like she always did. She could hear the door open with a hiss and a cool flow of air brushed along her sweating face. The steps before her were dark, but the man started walking so she followed him closely.

It was not a corridor that she was walking into. She dared not to look up, but she knew that the room was bigger than any other she had been in before. The cold air calmed her down a bit and the darkness made her eyes rest. The man suddenly stopped in front of her and she immediately halted herself, not wanting to bump into him as she had done with the stormtrooper.

The man fell to his knees and Ylva followed his example. It was silent for a few seconds until a buzzing sound could be heard all around her. A big, but dull light illuminated the stones in front of her and she forgot that she was supposed to look down. She lifted her head and her eyes sat on the largest hologram she had ever seen in her life. A large, bald creature sat in a enormous stone chair in front of them. His looming figure looked dark and dangerous and all of a sudden his eyes met her.

It felt as if a bucket of ice water fell over her. She instantly dropped to the ground in an even lower bow and tried to keep her breathing under control, but she was not prepared for the moment the creature in the hologram spoke.

"I can sense your fear."

His voice made her tremble and she quivered silently. She knew that he was staring at her tiny, fragile figure, lying there on the ground in the hope he wouldn't kill her.

"Why have you brought her forward, Okropir?" the creature spoke, his voice filling the room.

"Forgive me Supreme Leader, but she was brought here by Captain Phasma from the planet Vernet and-"

"I did not ask where she came from," the Supreme Leader sneered while interrupting the man that kneeled beside Ylva. She could feel something small pulsating from him. It was fear.

"I only wanted to explain Supreme Leader," the man spoke, "Phasma had brought her here to be trained as a stormtrooper."

"She is too old."

Ylva trembled.

"Phasma insisted, Supreme Leader, but when I looked at her I saw something in her eyes." Ylva wanted to turn her head. She wanted to look at the man, to see what he was doing, what he was feeling. "And when I touched her I felt something open up inside of her. Supreme Leader, I believe we have a Force sensitive child among us."

A pressing silence fell over the room. Ylva did not know what to do anymore. On one side she wanted to scream, shout, ask questions and on the other she wanted to disappear, to be back on her home planet lying beside her dead parents in the grass.

"I can feel it as well, but she is not strong. The Force within her is weak, barely a glimmer of what it should be."

For the first time Ylva felt something else than fear. She could feel an anger boiling up inside of her, making it's way to her head where it put a pressure on her temples that was almost unbearable. She was many things, but weak was not one of them. No one had the right to call her that, not after everything she had survived. Not after coming here.

" _I can feel it, child_ ," a voice spoke inside her head and it almost made her scream. It burned and it tormented her. Why could she hear him there, that creature? " _You want to let it out, you want to run. Why don't you?_ "

Ylva closed her eyes shut. She tried her best to push him out, even if she did not know how. She knelt even deeper, grabbing her head with her hands and wincing in pain. The space around her ceased to exist and she could almost feel his cold hands touching her face.

" _You are weak and afraid, you can't run._ "

"I am not weak!"

Her own voice surprised her. Suddenly she was back in the room. She had stood up and the man beside her looked at her with his eyes wide open, anger, fear and something else smeared across his face. She felt her breathing slow down as she realised what she had just done.

"She is too old to become a stormtrooper, Okropir," the Supreme Leader spoke again.

"Yes, Supreme Leader. I will bring her to the slave quarters."

"No."

Ylva swallowed. She was still standing up while the man with the golden eyes was still kneeling beside her with his head down.

"Let her train with the others, but bring her to the executioner quarters in the evening. She will live with him and learn his craft. I will use her if I find her valuable. You may leave."

"Yes, Supreme Leader. Thank you."

The man rose beside Ylva and grabbed her arm in a painful fist. She wanted to yell, but she felt a calmness come over her once more and the whole room seemed to go dark. As she felt her body fell backwards Ylva could see the hologram disappear and the creature leave with a smile.

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 _ **Ylva – 19 years**_

I stood before the door once more. I remembered that as a child I had often found it very large, dark and even dangerous. That feeling hadn't changed.

"You fought well today."

Phasma's voice was as emotionless as always, but I knew that complements from her were rare. I did not smile after hearing her words, but nodded my head in appreciation. She still hadn't put her helmet back on and I was starting to fear that it had something to do with my audience with the Supreme Leader. She was afraid for me.

"I was taught well," I answered, thanking her in my head for all the lessons that she had given me when I was young. 'It was because-"

Phasma interrupted me. She turned her head, almost looking at me in anger. "Do you even know who the woman was you were fighting?"

I raised my eyebrows, surprised that she cared. She hadn't even paid attention to my wounds, but did to this?

"No, I do not," I stated, confused and also a bit irritated. "What does it matter, she is dead."

"It matters because the Supreme Leader chose her to fight you, and you won Ylva. You won."

She turned her whole body towards me. Her armour shone in the light above our heads and I could see my own face reflected in it. My dark features had not changed much, but I had been able to wipe some blood of my face.

"It sounds as if that surprises you," I said, not wanting to sound provoked, but I was not able to control myself. "I am a good fighter you know, even though I am not one of your stormtroopers."

"That has nothing to do with it and you know that," Phasma said, her voice sounding distant once more, "You just need to realise who you killed today. She was not some slave."

"Then who was she?" I implored, feeling a sense of impatience grow inside of me.

"She was one of the Knights of Ren, Ylva. She was one of the Supreme Leader's personal fighters."

I swallowed as the news dawned on me. _One of the Knights of Ren_. I had never seen them, but there were numerous tales going around about them. They were a group of around eight people, now seven, who were often sent on personal and high-risk missions by Snoke. They almost never failed, seeing as they were skilled warriors. But today I killed one.

The Supreme Leader would want me dead.

"What?" I asked, as that was all I could manage to say.

"Ylva, you-" Phasma began, but her voice was interrupted by the door opening beside us.

The cool air flowed past my hot and flustered face. I could see Phasma's eyes trying to tell me something, but my head was racing. This would be the last time I would see her. Neither of us spoke and I slowly turned towards the dark space beside me.

My footsteps echoed softly and I heard the door close. Was this it then? I had always thought my life would end here, but now that the time had actually arrived I felt my body go cold.

I reached the spot where I had kneeled numerous times before. I got down on one knee and bowed my head in respect and fear of the hologram that was about to appear. The familiar buzzing sound filled the room and after a few seconds I could feel the Supreme Leader watching me.

I did not dare to speak. I had learned that the hard way as a child when I had been thoroughly punished for talking back when no one had asked me a question. I had not been able to walk for a whole week due to the injuries, but it had taught me a valuable lesson. I was not important enough to have an opinion of my own.

"You fought well, child."

His voice was echoing through the whole room even though he did not even raise his voice. I dipped my head even lower in appreciation.

"Thank you, Supreme Leader."

"You killed one of my Knights."

I swallowed. How was I to reply to that? Confirming it would make my death final, but denying it would be crazy. Everyone had seen it. Snoke had sent her out to kill me for my disrespect and she had failed. A Knight of Ren had failed in killing a low executioner who did nothing more than punish slaves and kill for the pleasure of others. She had had a purpose in life. I had not. She was irreplaceable. I was not.

"Do you not agree that that was quite an accomplishment?" He said, his voice almost slithering into my ears once more. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"Good, because I cannot send someone on a mission who does not believe she can accomplish it."

"A-a mission?" I stuttered, stumbling over my words, as I had not done in a long time. I looked up. Our eyes met and I felt the burning sensation go through my head once more. His voice came as expected.

" _You are to go to the Mid Rim, find the planet of Takodana and search there for Luke Skywalker._ "

I gasped, unable to apprehend the information. I placed my hands on the floor, attempting to steady myself as I tried not to fall over.

" _He is training a group of Padawans and you will present yourself to him as a student willing to learn the ways of the Force._ "

"But I am not strong with the Force, Supreme Leader, as you have said yourself. He will not take me as an apprentice." I answered, only barely understandable, as my voice was weak and soft.

" _He has a weakness for soft minds like yours. He will train you and you will convince his Padawans to join the First Order. You will show them the Dark Side._ "

"Is there not another to take on this mission, Supreme Leader? Someone who is more-"

" _Are you refusing my orders, child?_ "

A searing pain shot through my body. I clenched my teeth in order to keep my screams from coming out. I could see black spots flickering before my eyes and I gasped for fresh air. As sudden as the pain had come it disappeared. I shook all over as I tried to steady myself and I softly whispered, "No, Supreme Leader."

" _Good, then go. Commander Hux will send someone with you to help you with anything you might need_."

I tried to nod, but it felt more like my neck was snapping.

" _Do not disappoint me._ "

The buzzing sound disappeared and I felt my body collapse to the ground. The fight, his voice, the news and the pain were too much. I felt the cold ground touch my cheek and I laid still until I heard the door open once more.

Footsteps approached me and I hoped it was just a stormtrooper and not Phasma. She could not see me like this. I tried to get up, but my body did not listen to my commands. A figure soon loomed over me and in the light of the hallway I could see Oph's face hovering above mine.

"Are you ready to go, _Padawan_?"

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 **AN:** Ahhh! I'm so excited to read your reactions! I hope you liked the chapter! It featured a big part of some background information on Ylva, but also the start of the actual mission. I'm so excited and who knows, maybe the next chapter will introduce someone special…  
Let me know all your thoughts in a review, even if it is just a single word! And once again, if you see any grammar / spelling mistakes, please do let me know.

Love,  
Jade


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